random notes compiled on my iPhone in new york

By

i got my nails painted hologram diamond somewhere on Myrtle

between irving and knickerbocker the margarita machine was broken

i ate a salmon omelette sunrise somewhere on Houston or the Bowery or something

i saw a boy fire dance on K in the backyard in the morning glories on Putnam Ave

i had a vision at Wallet

where the musical equivalency of constipation

lazers grope light

noise train

pushing the limits of perception

throwing drone into The Nothing Sphere

pushing the velocity to ultimate

i feel like a washing machine

on an iPhone

lilacism

broadway junction

manhattan

succulent proverbs

vision of the golden, bobbing cat in Chelsea

west 14th street

222 23rd street and looking for a bathroom but only finding

an AT&T and endless ladders

sun shower

Siamese connection rainbow reflection

tempted to connect reflect

feeling alone, feeling free

smoking my last cigarette in a sun shower

carrying a singing bowl around in a paper bag

thinking about resonating

the broken jade

ascending to the basement somewhere else on Myrtle

through a choir of bells

coming from

the top of your head

chiming

pentacle tattoo

finger scars

Flapping Polaroids

talons claw

girl who pukes on her merch while on mushrooms

hatches butterflies in her downtime

Korean food indigestion epidemic

glittering indigo in the dark

musky wooden basement

data bank glitter on brown skin

blue-purple explosion

projector ticking shots of

someone levitating with a balloon

helium

double whiskey on ice

a little spiralled piece of metal

on the sidewalk

a globular cluster

an inside-out purple shirt

a casual mandala

morning traffic

bewildered by the city and how

everyones shadows are connected to them.

lost my magical necklace somewhere in Bushwick at some guys place who makes holographic porn

volumetric pixels floating images

each part is in itself a whole

each part has all the information of the image

sequencer

post i-Tunes

feeling cocktail

partied at 23 Meadow. think i may have lost touch with my consciousness. i remember it was three floors and i snuck onto the secret top floor (where surprisingly no one was) and immediately got shuffled back down by a security guard.

on the cab ride there i sat in the front seat with the driver and he softly touched my shoulder.

partied at a spa under an underpass. we danced around to electronic music in our white bath robes. i left once the free drinks ran out. cadence weapon and picture plane and elite gymnastics were there and araabmuzik was rumoured to arrive.

in williamsburg park i met john who meditated near me while i napped in the sun. he played his singing bowl and rubbed his coral beads together and breathed heavily and stood on his head. i sipped from my beet juice tequila concoction and accepted some dream-inducing flower power herbs from him.

in my notebook in the park after my nap i wrote “mantra seeds frequency circles crystal reverberations sacred numerics repititous harmony. calm. give me breath space love compassion patience focus concentration harmony flows from me to you. ask more questions.”

later i danced in a goth bar under a loud smoke machine. everyone appeared to be on some weird drugs. girls in fringe and black lipstick. a disco ball. monster in paradise. gypsy blood.

flow light radar

deli sandwiches and coconut water in the morning

american spirit

a day out of time

sandalwood

Pearl bar

tequila grapefruit cash machine

miss my metro stop and end up in a beautiful green graveyard

something inside of me said yes

when you told me about your zodiac

over pumpkin tempura

on 3rd avenue at this place called

yakitori taisho

‘gone with the wind’ you said

and me floating down the Bowery

and up a fantastic flight of stairs and

opening up, i am a sunflower.

on his roof top circles painted everywhere and

when we sit inside one on opposite sides

it is like we are a living, breathing yin yang because we are

the variations of symmetry

frog eyes

existing in two

devotion

past neptune to the aquarium

if he is the outside then i am the inside

and the tanks bum me out

waving coral hand

moon jelly

sparkling gem meadow

starfish

i let the ocean hit my face

and think about him while eating a piece of cheese pizza

on the Subway headed to jamaica

there’s nothing in my way.

You should like Thought Catalog on Facebook here.